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The importance of practising healthy lifestyle
The importance of practising healthy lifestyle
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Bronchitis. A hip injury. A torn PCL. These are the physical challenges that set back my track career. Of course, I persevered and trained harder to overcome these obstacles, but that is not the point. Anyone can recover from an injury, but not everyone can recover from adversity. The real challenge throughout high school was having to stand up to my coach. He is an older man who puts winning over the health of his athletes. During my freshman year I contracted bronchitis, and tragically, I was out for the rest of the season. I made my peace with the situation, but my coach wanted me to keep running because he needed another runner to compete in relays. He berated my parents and me with emails demanding to know when I was coming back as if …show more content…
Once I recovered I swore to myself I would no longer be bullied by this person. When the next track season began I stood up for myself. I told him that I can not run in every meet this season. He listened to my demands and I felt triumphant. Sadly, this feeling went away at the beginning of the following outdoor season. This time the coach refused to listen to me when I told him I could not run in every meet. I was adamant that if I ran in all of his meets I would be injured and that my dreams of becoming a Division 1 track and field athlete would never become a reality. We eventually reached a compromise, but unfortunately, the compromise was not enough. I pulled a hamstring while running and I fell. If I had just pulled my hamstring I would have been fine, but I had torn my PCL during the fall. The tear caused me to leave another season unfinished. I was broken. I had run track since the first grade and had always wanted to use my success to attend a top-tier school. I have been hugely successful in school, but the success I achieved in track set me apart from everyone
I am now officially in my Senior year of Cross Country , and am close to the end of my season. My first race of this year though was a big accomplishment for me, because I hadn`t been able to run. When I ran that race though it made me just so happy I was able to finish it, I was`nt happy with the time, but there is always time for improvement. I was glad to be racing again and being apart of the team again. I believe that my injuries were a barrier in my way, but they did not stop my sports career.
When i Was at the mosque outside on the court while i was playing a 3 on 3 basketball game. And the teams was me, bosh and Salah vs Abu, Sunny and Musa. We started to play, and my team was down by 8 points. So i was kind of mad at my team that we was down by so much. So i told them let me take over and try to get us back in the game. So they let me take over and we went on a 7-0 run and out of nowhere we was only down by one point. Then we made a turn over, then they got the ball and they passed it to abdi. And abdi got through his defender and bosh stepped up and tried to block his shot but he head faked bosh and i step and try to block his shot and i jumped up tried to block his shot and my knee cap moved out of
Something as simple as taking a walk around the facility can prove to be a battle with patient X. From the day I met patient X it was noticeable that she was lacking her memory. Patient X could no longer tell me her name and everyday it would be different struggle, but for that day it was getting her out of bed to take a walk. From the moment I walked in and introduced myself, patient X could not provide me with her name. Patient X constantly asked if I was her baby, and when dealing with an Alzheimer patient, it’s always best to go along with what that patient is saying. As I got patient X up and out of bed, she started to become violent and resistant. Patient X took forty-five minutes to simply get out of bed and dressed, and that was the very beginning of the battle that would consist all day.
I loved everything about the sport, knew everything about the sport, and simply wanted to be physically involved with the sport. I signed up for my local football organization and greatly anticipated the start of the season. My first season our team finished undefeated, winning each game with ease. I played offensive line and enjoyed every play, finally being a part of the sport I loved. My coach at the time admired my hard work and dedication, repeatedly telling my fellow teammates that we should all aspire to have a work ethic such as my own. At the end of the season, my coach suggested I practice to become a quarterback. A quarterback is usually one of the skinniest players on the team, a trait I certainly didn't have. If I were to be a quarterback, I would have to lose at least thirty pounds and practice almost every day until the next season. As crazy as the suggestion seemed to me at the time, I gladly accepted the challenge and almost instantly began to work to become the best quarterback I could
I didn’t care I still tried out. The cheers they had us do were easy the jumps were jumps I was doing in first grade. I made the team. I was happy even though deep down I was upset that I could be on the worst team in history. So as I started on the team, I soon realized that my idiot brother had no idea what he was talking about and it was a good team. I wanted to go back to my old coach so that I could learn how to do a back hand spring because everywhere I went I just couldn’t get myself to do it. Some coaches told me that it might be because I don’t trust them enough to do it. So I had a private class with her before her normal cheer practices. We were working on my round offs and cart wheels when she walked away to go answer her phone I went for my round off and didn’t land right and fell because it felt like my knee gave out. I got up and kept trying. When it was time for her teams to practice I was sitting on the floor in pain doing stretches with the girls thinking maybe if I just stretch it out itll feel better it didn’t I ignored it for a while till I went home and took my shoes off my foot swelled up like a balloon. I could barely walk
I started wrestling in the seventh grade, and continued to wrestle in high school. I found wrestling to be a great sport to help me stay in shape, but also make great friends. Many of my friends in high school I made from the wrestling team. Everyone is very supportive of one another, through the many ups and downs wrestling has to offer. There are many injuries that one can suffer from such a rough sport. Many wrestlers end up getting injured during sometime of their wrestling career. My wrestling injury came when I was just a freshman on the wrestling team at Bishop Guertin. It was a time of much pain and recovery that I had to endure in order to make it back out on the wrestling mats. I was afraid and in a lot of pain when I got injured for the first time.
I've always liked Fall. I like the falling leaves and warm spice drinks and chilly air and nice sweaters and the generally spooky vibes. Fall is a good time for me. Nothing beats it, not even the summer. The most important part, though, is Halloween. Halloween cotumes, loads of spooky-themed candy, costume parties, scary movies, everthing about it was something I looked forward to all year.
My junior year in high school, I went out for basketball. I liked it for a while, but when games started I was on JV. It was okay, but I was only getting to play two minutes per game. This didn't make me very happy. With all the time that I was putting in to play, it just wasn't worth it. My dad told me to just stick it out. Some of my friends told me that I should just switch to wrestling. I didn't know if this was possible, so I talked to the coach. The coach said he would be glad to have me on the team, but I would have to talk to the counselor. I talked to him and explained why I wanted to switch sports and he gave me the go ahead. There was only one thing standing in my way: how was I going to persuade my parents to let me wrestle. I talked to my dad about it and he said that if that was really what I wanted to do then that would be fine. I decided that I would play one more game of basketball and if things didn't get better, I would switch. Things didn't get better. I went in once for two minutes.
In the past, I’ve made numerous mistakes. They all were very similar, most of them being related to school, sports, friendships, or even as simple as arguing with a parent. Although I had many, and learned quite a few lessons from them, most of these mistakes were not life changing. I would usually just be grounded by a parent, or get half credit on the homework because I didn’t do it correctly. Those mistakes were not as grand, or complex, or painful as my favorite mistake. I hadn’t realized until I reflected on the event, but my favorite mistake was when I broke my collarbone playing flag football in sixth grade.
I devoted so much time and effort into that sport and to stop playing seriously like this was heart breaking. I listened to all my family and friends about how fast I was and decided to try out track. I knew that I wouldn’t hurt by doing this and I didn’t want to stop playing sports. I always thought how track would be a sport where if you have natural talent, you will be good. I decided to give it a go and after running over a mile in the first practice I was a little reluctant to keep going. I couldn’t keep running all these long distances when I’m not in shape for it. I kept telling myself this so I would just keep pushing through it. My mind was in a million places questioning if I should have just stuck with playing basketball even though I didn’t find it was fun as it used to be. So, after a few months of hard training and practice, I stuck with track. My coach, my family and my friends all persuaded me to do it because they thought I would do good and strive throughout the season. This was a hard change for
My injury was an accident, but I viewed it as a failure. Not only have I believed I failed my team and parents, I thought I failed myself. I had a goal for myself and that was to bring a championship to the program. But for it to end so suddenly caused negativity to fly around in my head, constantly bringing me down. I let my “failure” affect me mentally and a result of that, I was
I love to run hurdles, but unfortunately last year, little pulls and strains prevented me from running to my full potential. One Thursday, we had a home track meet against Lake Stevens. For the first time I was in pretty good shape for my race, the 100-meter hurdles. I began jumping up and down partially to stay warm, and partially to let out some of my excitement. By this time, I had butterflies in my stomach and the adrenaline was pumping. The starter asked us to 'Take your sweats off and stand behind your blocks.' 'Runners take your marks.' Hands shaking, I crouched into the starting blocks. The gun was up. 'Set!' 'Bang!' I bolted out of the blocks. I was way ahead of the other girls when suddenly, I realized I didn't have enough speed to carry me over the next hurdle. Gathering all of the strength I could, I grabbed at the air in hopes of guaranteeing clearance. I had just brushed over the wood when my foot hit the ground and my ankle gave out. I fell. I heard a gasp from the crowd and the other racers' feet pounding past me. I got back up. I had never gone over a hurdle with my right leg first, but I did after that fall. Sprinting as fast as I could in between hurdles, I found myself basically bunny hopping over the rest of them. My goal was to cross that finish line and to be able to say that I did the very best that I could, even if I didn't look very graceful along the way. Although it might have seemed like a bad day, I was proud. It was the first time I had ever fallen in a race, and not only did I get back up and keep running, I managed to place second.
When I was 7 i burned my leg on a four-wheeler muffler. When I ran back in my house to show my dad the skin was already ripped of and the meat in my leg was showing. When I put water on it to clean it it started to gush out blood. I had to go to the hospital and get it fixed cause it was burnt bad. And I didn't have to go to school the next day cause I couldn't get it hit or it would start to gush out blood again.
My coaches decided to intensify my training regimen in the hopes that I could compete in the Olympics the following year. One day during a very intense track practice I collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, where I was told that my blood cells were sickling. This happened because I am a carrier for sickle cell anemia. This would forever alter my approach to training thus making it more difficult for me to achieve my Olympic dreams. The harder I trained to improve my time, the more my body broke down. It was like climbing a mountain of
It was the start of summer 2002, and the Mid America Youth Basketball (MAYB) national tournament was taking place in Andover, Kansas. Along with the rest of the team, I was excited to play some basketball for the first time since the middle school basketball season was over. Our team, Carlon Oil, had been together and played every summer for the last four years. We were a really good team, with an overall record of 65-4 over those four years and were hoping to continue our legacy. Lonnie Lollar, our coach for the summer, was also the coach of our high school basketball team. I had a history of groin injuries, and every summer it seemed that I would have to sit out at least a game on the bench icing my groin. But this summer was different, and I along with everyone in the gym wouldn't have expected my summer to end with a injury such as a broken leg.